


Smoke up (a glimpse of heaven)

by meltaeing



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cigarettes, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Smoking, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23368084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltaeing/pseuds/meltaeing
Summary: All of this is reserved for him, until the very last drag of his cigarette, when there won't be an excuse for his being at the back of a bar in the early hours of the morning."You're bound to get sick, if you keep this up," Junhui says with a watery smile.'I'll never get sick of you,' Wonwoo thinks.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	Smoke up (a glimpse of heaven)

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first fic for the fandom after 4 years of stanning and reading in silence!
> 
> Take some of my favorite angsty boys. mwah.
> 
> Based on "Cigarettes" by offonoff, featuring Tablo of Epik High and MISO

The air is humid and hot, suffocating almost, when he steps out of the back entrance, his body thumping against a wall that's wet from the evening's downpour. It's uncomfortable, nonetheless, it grounds him enough to pull a cigarette packet, along with a lighter, out of the pocket of his jeans.

He frowns as he lights his cigarette, not yet storing the packet away. The clouds above his head are threatening to give way to another shower any moment now and his thin shirt is already half drenched and sticky at his back where it touches the concrete. The first hit grands him with no satisfaction.

A moment later, there's the sound of a door closing and a soft presence leaning next to him against the wall. He passes over the packet in silent acknowledgement.

"Light it for me," the other man requests, deep and muffled by the cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. Wonwoo, who has yet to glance towards his face, knows for a fact that Junhui always carries a lighter of his own, one that traditionally peeks over the pocket of his black polo shirt. He indulges the request anyways.

The man leans towards him expectantly, an excuse, and Wonwoo, flipping the lighter on, gets to inhale the smell of sweat and citrus and something so distinctively Junhui that causes his stomach to ache. The second hit feels almost like being at home.

They sit in silence for a while. Wonwoo lights another cigarette and it's getting harder by the second to not simply reach out and touch, to not hold and feel and secure that Junhui will not float away along with the smoke that bleeds into the air from his lips. He stretches a hand for the man to take; Junhui would always feel too guilty to initiate affection between them, he didn't blame him.

His fingers are bare and cold and there's a red imprint around his ring finger. He momentarily laments about the weight of the wedding ring hidden deep into his pocket, but then Junhui brings his hand to his lips and peppers kisses on the knuckles until they become warm. Wonwoo thinks he's going to cry.

"My wife," he starts, making the man sigh audibly. Junhui is standing in front of him now and they're supposed to be of the same height but Wonwoo's shoulders are hunched and his back is hurting from staying at the office overtime, just to avoid thinking too much, so the other seems to be hovering over him.

"She's not here, Wonwoo, you don't have to think about her now-", gentle fingers are prodding at the crease between his brows and he's stuck staring at that damn polo shirt and the lighter glinting inside the pocket, reflecting the light of the streetlamp above them. His next drag does nothing to ease his nerves.

"She's pregnant, Jun," he chokes out, regretting it when Junhui's welcoming heat steps away from his face.

He hesitates for a moment and, truly, Wonwoo should have been prepared for this, should have expected to see him get hurt, however, witnessing Junhui's shocked and heartbroken expression up close scares him out of his skin. Wonwoo must be too cruel a man. 

Junhui eventually schools himself into an impenetrable countenance. "Congratulations," it's followed by a tight smile that trembles at the edges. "You should be taking good care of her, instead of hanging around in questionable bars at this side of town." he chuckles, but it doesn't sound like himself at all.

"I can't even fucking look at her, anymore." _She's not you,_ he thinks, _she's not who I'm meant to have a family with._

"Nonu, she's the mother of your child."

Maybe it's the nickname that does it, or maybe it's the fact that Junhui seems to be trying too hard to feel happy for his sake, but Wonwoo breaks down, not for the first time that day. His sobs are loud and dry, already having cried for hours before coming to meet Junhui at their designated spot. The rain hitting his cheeks generously makes up for it.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this." he yells into his hands as another sob gets raked out of him. "It wasn't supposed to be like this, " he repeats. It sounds pathetic as it echoes back in his ears.

Junhui, the ever kind and forgiving Junhui, gives in and, plucking the remnants of a cigarette out of Wonwoo's fingers, wraps his hands around him, a comforting weight rubbing at his back.

"It's wasn't supposed to- Junhui I-" he holds onto him as hard as he can, hoping to wordlessly convey the rest of his statement, the mess of feelings and thoughts that torment him every waking moment after his marriage.

"It's alright." _It's nothing close to alright._ "You're going to be such a good dad. I've known it from the moment I met you. You'll be so amazing, I promise you." Junhui is crying as well, snotty and disgusting and Wonwoo hasn't felt more in love.

"It was supposed to be you. I can't be happy if it's not you." Junhui holds him until he calms down, until the frustration washes away and the exhaustion leaves his knees buckling.

They slide down against the wall, their clothes, saturated with rain water, clutching onto their bodies, their hands clutching onto each other like it'd be unacceptable to let go. Wonwoo brings his bare hand to wipe away Junhui's snot without a second thought, the other's loving gaze making him cower. "Would it be selfish of me to kiss you?" he asks, his voice nowhere near stable.

"Yeah, it would." Junhui provides, leaning down and pecking him once on the lips anyways. Wonwoo doesn't dare to demand more, he doesn't deserve it.

"I'll name him after you." he strokes his lover's cheekbone and suddenly the idea of a tiny Junhui running around his apartment and calling him 'dad' doesn't appear too unappealing.

"What if it's a girl, though?" he laughs, nose brushing against nose, milking out every bit of affection he can manage while he still has time.

"I'll name her after you anyways" and Wonwoo's only half joking. "I think-I think you should find someone, too. You deserve something better than cigarette breaks and hook-ups in the dark."

Junhui feigns a smile at that. "Oh, I've been dating someone for a while. I believe he wants us to be a thing." the lie slips easily off his tongue; he knows Wonwoo was lying as well. "You don't have to worry about me."

"What's his name?" Wonwoo does a very bad job at suppressing his jealousy. Junhui's chest inflates a little.

"Sicheng. He's an idol trainee, friend of Minghao's." he prays that Wonwoo won't go around asking Minghao about his love life after this. "He's also Chinese, so my parents will probably approve." the last jab is delivered with an oblivious smile.

There's genuine worry when he speaks again, "An idol trainee? How is he going to support you if he's-"

"He's debuting soon, but I can support myself, too, you know. He's in a big company, so he makes good money. He got into the one you had applied to after college, remember?"

If there's something that Wonwoo remembers, it's that they've had this conversation before. It's always about a Chinese boy that Junhui's parents seem to love, that got accepted into the big company of Wonwoo's dreams, that will get to wake up into Junhui's arms and not feel guilty about it. It's always a different boy that gets to live how Wonwoo was meant to. Always a different lie that he pretends to believe for Junhui's sake. It's the nature of the game they play.

Wonwoo leans in and kisses him again. It's deep but ever so soft and Junhui has to break away to sneeze; he's probably catching a cold out in the rain.

"Bless you." he says, like that's the only thing worth to be spoken, and lights another cigarette, letting the smoke curl between them.

Junhui smiles, teary eyed, and he'd be a fool not to return the gesture. He hasn't had a haircut in a while, Wonwoo notices, the ends of his hair curling slightly at the base of his neck, his nose high and his smile soft. It was all Wonwoo needed to be happy. It was a glimpse of heaven among clouds of rain and smoke and heartbreak and the distinctive low sound of destiny grieving the parting of soulmates.

The smoke keeps dissipating upwards and Wonwoo keeps falling down hard and someone must be there to catch him, right? With every hit of the cigarette he comes closer to being apart from Junhui, who just watches and grins sympathetically, sometimes leaving feather-like kisses on his eyelids and cheeks or muttering anecdotes about annoying patrons and clumsy bartenders.

And all of this is reserved for him, until the very last drag of his cigarette, when there won't be an excuse for his being at the back of a bar in the early hours of the morning as a married man. This night he goes for a fourth.

"You're bound to get sick, if you keep this up, " Junhui, who never smokes more than half a cigarette per night (and that's just to entertain Wonwoo), says with a watery smile.

 _I'll never get sick of you_ , Wonwoo thinks and then finds it irrelevant, so he opts for taking Junhui's unused lighter instead, a strange kind of memorabilia, and leaving him with his jacket and an ashy forehead kiss.


End file.
